This is creative writing exercise. Most of the work posted is unfinished, so comments and critiques are appreciated. My email is below in case you would rather send me your thoughts privately. Thanks for visiting, and I hope you enjoy!

Thursday, November 10, 2016

So, y'all, after the clusterfuck that was Trump winning the election there have been protests across the nation because people are angry and because PROTESTING is one of the most American things that you can do. But ... according to my Facebook feed ... y'all are doing it wrong.

And you are upsetting white people!

So, I have researched and I have some pointers on how to protest
so that WHITE AMERICA (you know, America, like how the Evangelical vote was for Trump, except for the Black Evangelical vote, which is historically liberal.)

Let's start with our words.

Realize first that white people voted for Trump because of God, Economics, The Second Amendment and Our Children. (Did y'all even realize that white women had abortions?)

If a white person says or does or promotes or elects something that is:

Don't use those words to let them know. Actually ... Don't bring it up at all because those words are mean and white people are delicate with fragile feelings and letting us know that our behavior has a dangerous impact on people who are not white is bullying.

And white people are against bullying.

Unless you are a privileged, entitled, greedy, spoiled, braggy, white sexual predator ... and then, well,
that's just how men are, right ladies?

And if you are going to say anything about "Lives Mattering", then it needs to be ALL or BLUE.

Unless the person who killed the Blue Lives is a white, confederate-flag waving domestic terrorist. Then you need to concede that that guy is an aberration and a retard.

Speaking of which, if your child is participating in the protest, and they aren't normal, you know, they're special, then they need to be special in a way that doesn't make us uncomfortable or inconvenienced with their disability. I would recommend a verbal, attractive kid with Down Syndrome, like that girl that became a model, or that kid that got accepted to college. Maybe not so much the kids who the normal kids ask to prom. Because, they're okay when we want to admire our normal kids for giving up something important, but in person, we need a disability that we can see and feel good about ourselves for admiring that they can be almost like people, but not anything that we won't notice or will bring us down.

And speaking of broken, if you are going to have any veterans, they need to be maimed in some way. And the more horrific, the better, because we need to look at them and imagine what they were like when they were normal. And we want to be able to point to them as examples of who we should be taking care of, if we had the money, because economics. And, of course the vet needs to be a man, because women aren't really veterans.

Speaking of men, let's address the biggest problem with these protests. They are too diverse. You need to gather healthy white men (25-40) who regularly make love to their guns. They need to take those guns to an overpass and threaten law enforcement. (Call Fox News, don't tell them that you are specifically protesting Trump.) Then, those white men and their friends and THEIR guns need to seize some sort of federal building. If they can damage property, even better! If that property is some sort of Native or minority artifact, you're gold! Entrench yourself there and promote sedition! But, whatever you do, do not take your snacks with you! That's sissy. If you get peckish, demand your snacks like a man. Use this opportunity to lament the fact that we won't get taco trucks on every corner. We know this tactic works. America (you know, White America) approves of this method! Ask the Bundys.

(Some of you may wonder, could we use Native American men instead of white men? And I see your thinking there, as long as they didn't look too native or too white, but, no. White people will admire the mystic nobility of the Native American, but eh, seriously, they have casinos! AND they keep whining about mascots and won't let white people play with their pretty headdresses. As I have already discussed, that's bullying.)

There you go! Easy-peasy, right? I know you just needed a few little tips on how to protest so white people won't be uncomfortable. So, go fight the good fight, y'all!

heidi
written: 11/10/16

So at the deepest depths of my despair, there was, unsurprisingly, anger. And writing while angry results in satire, which y'all know makes me uncomfortable. The thing about satire is that you just can't call anything satire and it be okay. There is a line between art and oppression, and I don't quite trust myself on that line yet. All of that written so that you know that if you have any critiques, I am open. (Unless you actually complain that this is mean to white people.)

I mean, it's not like I'm promoting white power
or telling racist jokes
or referring to the Them with the capital T
or giving the interview to Mary before Maria
or sharing the ugly meme
or asserting that, no, ALL lives matter
or doing the elbow sneak to lock my car door in the bad neighborhood.
I'm not even voting for Trump.

It's because I could not understand rioting until I read about Stonewall
(and even then I only pictured white men).

It because I only want to go to the restaurants in those bad neighborhoods
when I want really good Chinese food.

Because I forget that people who speak both AAVE and English
are bilingual.

Because not so many years ago I would have been an all-lives-matter person.

Because I don't always speak up when I should because I don't want to hear the phrases
I'm not racist but ...
I don't mean to sound racist but ...
Any of my black friends will tell you that I'm not a racist ...
That's not racist, you're just
oversensitive
brainwashed
guilty

And there was probably some truth to the last one.

But I am not guilty anymore.

Because all my guilt ever did was make me deny my racism harder.

I can't change what I don't own.

And I own my racism.

heidi
written 8-20-16

I don't know if this one is done or not. I think it says what I want it to, but I'm not sure. It is one of those that makes me feel vulnerable, so it's hard to tell.

Also, since when CAN'T I think of a title for something? So obviously not finished.

Saturday, June 11, 2016

So I found this diary recently. I thought it was pretty interesting. Maybe this person should take a nap. The text is transcribed below without edits.

3/29/16 [cut off in photo]

Dear Fucking Diary,

The world is so mean. Here I am, trying to do everyone a favor, and they dump on me. And I don't know why? I mean, I know all the greatest words, right? The best words. The best fucking words EVER and all they do is mock me. And it shouldn't matter, it really shouldn't matter what mean people or the liberal-biased media says, after all, I have a young and beautiful piece of ass, but still. It hurts. It hurts way bad. I promise to build a great wall- because nobody builds walls better than me, believe me- that is inexpensive AND paid for by Mexico- and do they appreciate it? NOOOOOOOO! I try to tell them about my "extremely credible source that can prove that birth certificate is fake-and they ignore me. This is why politics is such a disgrace- why good people don't go into government. Because of the bullies and meanyfaces who don't recognize my awesomamilitude!
You think they never watched TV before. Like they don't know who I AM. And you know all of the women on The Apprentice flirted with me-consciously or unconsciously (so expected) and still all people want to do is drag me down.
Pigs.
Filthy pigs.
And it is sooooo not TRUE.
LOOK HERE
[see picture above of drawing of hand]

My fingers are long and beautiful, as, it has been well documented, are various other parts of my body.

Just watch. They'll beg me. Please be our boss. We neeed you so much to make America unsuck. And I'll just be like NOPE!!!
Sorry America. Sorry uneducated people. It's okay. My IQ is one of the highest-and you all know it! Please don't feel stupid or insecure; it's not your fault.
But you won't let me be president. So I'm not gonna play with you ANYMORE AMERICA!

when almost every move
of my adult life
has been predicated on that question.

Learning along the way that

I need to be loved by anyone else

AND

that I am fundamentally unlovable
and that any regard
must be won with
toil.

and I let it break me
(although Melissa asserts that I am not broken.)

I am broken with
what I sacrificed
the job
the house
the car
the dog
the degree
the license
the joy
the comfort of myself
the unconditional okayness of me

and I try to hold the pieces
of what is left
together with
a sense of humor.

When what I want is to run
but I can't
because two more people
are linked to me

and I want to change
but I can't
because I now have a role that requires
duty
to others and
never to
myself.

And so
I
wait for it
to be over

while my anger
flames throughout me

maybe I am a phoenix

incendiary

get out of the way

because I yearn to

combust.

heidi
written 5/4/16

What happens when you can't get in touch with your doctor to get your prozac refilled. I read that people who have depression are able to see things more realistically, that happiness requires a level of self-deception. I don't know if I want to lie to myself at all right now. I think, at this moment, I am too old for that shit. I can be young and self-deceiving some other day.

Saturday night
I dreamed that my throat
was sore
just a little twinge every tenth swallow

and my mouth felt fluffy
even after eating blackberries

so i looked in the mirror and moths
black and more lovebug
than moth looking
were crawling on my teeth
which were purple from the blackberries
and the moths, which i knew were moths
and not lovebugs because
my mouth felt glimmery

those lovebug looking moths
wouldn't get out of my mouth
until i spit
and then they were dead
their wadded bodies in the sink

and my throat twinged and made me cough

i coughed up a handful of muck
which turned out to be a bunch of baby green frogs
looking at me like
what the fuck, heidi?

and i was unsure if they were upset
that they were in my throat
or that i had coughed them up.

as it occurred to me to be
freaked out

i woke up

with a twinge in my throat on the tenth swallow.

and i learned that if you google
"dream of coughing up f"
it will auto suggest
"frogs"

which, to me, is next level freaky shit.

which is why i am writing this on the twenty-fifth instead the twenty-fourth.

Sunday, April 17, 2016

Feminazis are never satisfied! Ever try to argue -for their side- and simultaneously be a MALE?Ha! I'll just keep supporting femaleequality and ~ignore~ how I can never *REALLY* understand.heidiwritten 4/17/16 for

So you know what happens when you troll a NaPoWriMo'er on Facebook? They turn your shit into found poetry! Troll away!

Fuck you so hard, J.J. Abrams! Although, I am actually putting something into the writing today. Maybe there's a lift in the Depression onset writer's block I have been experiencing. Although that may have also been wrote-something-too-emotionally-draining-and-needed-to-recover. I also have a lot of NaPo reading to do now!!!

Thursday, April 14, 2016

and the real fucker of it all is that, early this morning, when I finally started to fall asleep, this, awesome free verse flowed through me and it was fierce and powerful and pissed off and sad and funny, and I can't remember one. fucking. word. of. it. and i have tried all fucking day.

send our children to made up wars
to prove your dick is bigger than
your dad's
and use their broken bodies
and shattered souls
to shame an Olympic heroine
or deny safety, mercy and grace to a refugee

i will not worship hate
i will not disrespect humanity
with false flattery
seducing the afraid and ignorant
to offer up their arms
as sacrifices

there are just some things I will not fear

heidi
written 4/9/16 for

Blarg! Today we are supposed to write something that is scary for us to write. And, yes, I totally wrote that what is scary for me is not being afraid. This is a really raw (translation: if you need to critique, tread softly, because I can't be objective about this one yet) free write free verse. I need to go write something funny now.

Wednesday, April 6, 2016

I want tacos for breakfast, but I don't want to go make them. I'm thinking about just having taco fixings always at the ready, just for taco emergencies such as these. And in case you didn't see, the NaPo prompt today was to write about food. Anyone want to bring me a taco? I'll be your best friend!

Monday, April 4, 2016

Blah! I am feeling a little burned out today. It seems early in the month to dread coming to a prompt. Maybe it just that it's Monday, and the weekends wear me out. Today's prompt was to write about the cruelest month. Blah+burned out+NaPo prompt=COLLOM LUNE!!!!!!!!

Sunday, April 3, 2016

i am
your biggest fan
hovering over the
line between admiration and
obsession.

heidi
written: 4/3/16 for

So for day three, the prompt is to write a fan letter. Sometimes I worry that I am too much of a fangirl of whatever or whomever holds my attention. (This is one of those times that I don't like that I lean so much to confessionalist poetry.) Also, I am totally one syllable over regulation for a cinquain.

Friday, April 1, 2016

Woohoo! It's time for NaPoWriMo! And we're starting off with lunes, which, you may remember are my most favorite form! I chose the Collom Lune for which is a tercet with word counts for each line. Lines one and three have three words and line two has five. Happy poeming y'all! (Also so counting this towards my Camp NaNoWriMo word count. All the words! Yay!)